just a thought

city snaps 2

I was driving to the the Fourth Street Fantasy Convention this afternoon and, again, because the Twin Cities are so full of life, I saw things that I wanted to capture in words (since driving and photographing, especially with my big tank, would be dangerous). I’ll share a few things, then I expand with my own expository on some of the issues.

Since I’m staying in Como Park, I’m right off of Lexington. Lexington was backed up almost to Larpenteur with people going to the park. Bikers, walkers, sunbathers, and zoo-goers were flocking to the absolutely gorgeous Como Park. This is one of the most beautiful parks I’ve ever seen. It has gorgeous buildings, rolling green hills covered by multitudes of trees and other vegetation, and captivating bridges. I’m often transported to a different time when I pass through this park.
After passing through the park, going toward I-94, I passed through a different neighborhood. It’s doesn’t have the finely manicured lawn and gardens with impeccably maintained homes of the more northern Como Park adjacent neighborhoods. The lawns are longer, flowers are leggy, and homes may need a good painting. But this neighborhood makes me think more of childhood memories (although I never lived in a neighborhood like this — ever). I can imagine children riding bikes down the sidewalks, kick-the-can happening in the streets, and the local dog following the child with the dripping ice cream cone, hoping to get a taste.
For only the second time in my life, I passed through the I-94 tunnel. I love tunnels. I was so excited to pass through it, and since traffic was backed up due to road work, I was able to enjoy it even longer.
Every time the Basilica comes up on the horizon, I gasp. It is so stunning and large and jumps up out of nowhere. Along those same lines, I feel the same way about the Mississippi River. Today, surrounded by lush green vegetation, I could imagine Huck Finn cruising down it.

Now. I have some other thing to say:

Are those teenaged girls absolutely insane? Do they not know that lying in the sun can lead to skin cancer? ARGH. I wanted to go be an old lady and admonish them.
Drivers in the Twin Cities are as passive-aggressive as they are when speaking to them. Speed up, slow down, speed up, slow down. Put on your damn cruise control and go a steady speed!
The further east I went, I noticed how white the and more expensive the cars got. Suddenly I was surrounded by BMWs, Saabs, Mercedesssss, and gone were the Hondas, Nissans, and Chevy vans (seriously). It’s a bit disconcerting, to say the least.

Ok. I’m done being a cranky old woman. I’m gonna hang out at the con now, and learn more about expository, sex, and all kinds of other things.

city snaps

I took a break from writing to go to lunch with some friends. It’s a windy day, but the sun is shining and it’s lovely. As I drove to and from lunch, I saw people doing things that made me smile — there are those quintessential human things that do that, you know? So a few snaps from my drive across the cities:

Lunch at Loring Pasta in Dinkytown. Piano man used the acoustics to his advantage and filled the joint with glorious music.
Piano man invites anyone in town for the conservatory show to play his piano. A young woman takes her place on the platform and plays a Beethoven that would knock your socks off (if you were wearing socks in summer — which is kind of dorky looking, especially if you wear sandals — I’m just sayin’). She was shy at first, but once she got into her groove, she took over the piano.
Walking back toward the East Bank campus, an older man on a tricked-out bike pulls up to the light we’re waiting at. The back tire on the bike is the fattest I’ve ever seen, and he has a boom box strapped to the handle bars. Better than that, though, is that he’s wearing a tux and a top hat. Very dapper.
While driving home, I see a semi-truck driver pull over at a Dairy Queen, jump out, take photos of the Dairy Queen sign, and jump back in his truck and drive off. He maneuvered quite well and quickly for such a large rig. But I really wonder — what were photographs were about?

Everywhere people are out: walking, gardening, sitting at cafes with friends. Beautiful flower gardens leading up to lovely shaded Victorians were tended by people of all ages. Parks and lakes were crowded with people enjoying the Saturday sun.

And even though it stuffs me up, watching the puffs from the cottonwood trees float by as if pushed by fairies is a joy.

Yeah. This place ain’t so bad.

crushin’

For the last month, I’ve been pretty much bed-bound. I’ve been very sick, venturing out only to teach, then heading right back home to bed to sleep. It hasn’t been a whole lot of fun.

In all of that downtime, I spent a lot of it online to amuse myself (as if I don’t spend a lot of time online anyway! Hah!). I followed link after link, learning about new people, following their blogs, their twitters, their other social networks. And then, out of the blue, it happened. I mean this kind of thing NEVER happens to me. It just doesn’t. I don’t get starry-eyed over many men, let alone those with some celebrity. But it happened.

I got a crush. On someone TOTALLY out of my league. I mean, we will never meet. Ever. Well, maybe someday, but you know what I mean. We move in completely different circles.

I was telling someone about this embarrassing, secret (not-so-secret anymore, is it?) crush. He said he could see why I developed this crush. The man is obviously intelligent, seems well-read, seems to be comfortable in his skin, can articulate himself in the written word (my favorite type), and is interesting. Then he said to me (as he stood in his office on campus (UMN campus, East Bank, if you must know) looking out a window), but you are surrounded by intelligent, well-read, articulate men. You’re in the perfect place for it! You’re going to school at a top university, pursuing a PhD in a field that is full of well-written men. Maybe you should look closer to home, he says.

Uhhh…what? That would require me actually TALKING to someone. And as anyone who knows me knows, I’m not the most outgoing person. I’m pretty introverted. Talk to a man — who may be potential partner material? Eek! I mean really. I can talk to male colleagues, professors, students, etc. But…seriously. I don’t talk to THOSE men.

The days wore on. I read more about my secret crush (and to those of you who know who I’m talking about, please don’t say his name on this blog — it would lead to my certain humiliation, and I don’t need that right now). I read more and more. I followed more links. And I still liked him — for his expertise in his field. But I realized that it would be an unrequited crush, and not worth spending too much time thinking about.

Plus, you know, it would be hard to compare any mere mortal to him. He is, after all, a celebrity.

thick or thin

What’s your preference?

In some ways, this is a GREAT parody. I mean, it has emotional appeal. But…that little part of me, sitting on the sofa (or bed, as it may be), watching TV and eating ice cream thinks…what is this obsession with thin? Really. Is it really better? Am I better off if my laptop is the thinnest one out there (especially if it has relatively no ports and no drives)? And is it worth it to spend a few THOUSAND dollars to be thin?

telling

Yesterday I wrote about a woman being branded by a group of people for calling CPS to protect children.

Today, I’m going to write about the way a female candidate is treated by a certain male journalist.

But first, confirm this for me. We are in the year 2007, right? And people keep saying we’ve reached the threshold of equality, right? I mean, I keep hearing younger people saying that we have complete equality between the sexes.

But…the disparity between us is still huge. Take, for instance, the election for President of the United States.

MediaMatters reports that on the Chris Matthews Show, this took place:

Asked by Time managing editor Richard Stengel, “What are you suggesting by asking does this diminish her as a commander in chief by being surrounded by women?,” Matthews replied: “No, the idea that it — well, let me just get historic. We’ve never had a woman commander in chief.”

Right…historic. Because everything should be based on what has happened in the past. As if going with the status quo — John Wayne and General Patton — has been so great for us.

What really gets me, though, is that people are actually discussing the fact that Clinton has other women surrounding her. That’s a bad thing? And then discussing their hair color. WTF?!?

“It makes a case with a certain demographic, and I noticed the picture on the front of The Washington Post the other day showed her with all these women and her crew, and did you notice, there was only one blonde out of about 15 women, so it sort of — I thought that was very telling.”

Women with needs, Matthews says. Yeah…because, really, we’re either needy, maladjusted women or supposed to be beautiful, barefoot, and in the kitchen waitin’ for our man. We’re not supposed to be ambitious, intelligent, or fraternizing with other ambitious, intelligent women. Cardinal sins, those are.

Be a good girl. Shut your mouth. Don’t try to work outside the box.

this ‘n’ that

Yesterday I had lunch with four other dynamic, intelligent, witty women. I am fortunate enough to work with these women and I was reminded of that during our foray into sushi.

At one point, we began discussing Harry Potter. I’m not sure why or how it came up but we all were in the fray and discovered that all of us have read all of the books, seen some of the movies (some of us have seen all of the movies and even, ahem, own them (plus all of the books)). That’s not the cool thing, though.

What was cool is that the discussion of Harry Potter turned into a theoretical discussion with connections between political, social, and rhetorical theories. We discussed the use of lies, manipulation, and influence to overcome and / or coerce others. We discussed the rise of “the one.”

We realized how geeky we are but also how much we really do have in common when it comes down to it. Some of these women are *much* more outgoing than I am but they also classify themselves as introverted and reticent to be a part of large crowds. They are able to put on a better face, I think, than I do, but it was nice to know I’m not alone. And it was wonderful to get so deep into an intellectual discussion about something silly and fun.

It still makes me chuckle when I think about the way we all looked and how our voices rose as we got excited and wanted to share our own theories on the topic.

–

I have been acknowledged and / or quoted in no less than three books this year. That’s more than any other time in my life.

The first, and most important book, is my brother’s dissertation. He acknowledges all of his family for the supportive roles we played in his journey. I know all of the work behind that book and it makes me proud to be mentioned in its pages.

The second is a book by my adviser, Laura Gray-Rosendale, Pop Perspectives: Readings to Critique Contemporary Culture. She mentions me by name (and a few of my colleagues) for our assistance with her online course, which is the basis for this book. The book is interesting and insightful and if you’re interested in the language of pop culture, it is a must-have.

The third book I was mentioned in is Naked on the Internet: Hookups, Downloads, and Cashing in on Internet Sexploration by Audacia Ray. I was interviewed for this book and will be doing a book review of it on June 27th.

–

I live on a dirt road that, when I bought my house, was not heavily traveled. However, in the past year or so, a few out-of-staters (read: Californians) have moved into our neighborhood. With them, they brought high-speed driving. In an arid climate with dirt roads, this means high dust levels. It also means torn-up roads. It also means danger for children and pets.

To combat this, my neighbor across the street put in a speed bump. I had been thinking about doing the very same thing and was glad to see him do it. The speeds had become dangerous even for us as adults, let alone the neighborhood kids. The first person to cross over it told us that were were putting in an illegal obstruction to the road. She said that in New York, where she was from, this was illegal. Lance and I chuckled. Here in Arizona, in our specific neighborhood, we own the road. I own half and he owns half. We can do whatever we want with it as long as it still allows access.

Most of our neighbors have been great, support it, and are talking about creating their own to slow down the traffic. The Californians, however, are hopping mad. Or maybe they are burn-out mad. They will speed (and I mean 60+mph speed) up to the bump, drive over it, then try to spin out on it to tear it up. Two nights ago, at 2am, they kept doing it over and over again, trying to get rid of it, making a lot of noise.

I don’t quite understand this behavior. Instead of supporting the issue of needing slower traffic for safety, they are causing more danger — repeatedly. It’s kind of scary. I wonder how they’d be when confronted with something even more irritating.

–

Let me know what you think of the new design. Like it? Don’t? Feedback is appreciated.

different

One of the things I’ve found out while I’ve been in grad school is that many of us feel like we’re frauds — that we feel like we don’t know half of what we’re supposed to know. I thought I was alone in this until I talked to a friend and my brother about it. Both said they knew what that was like and that most grad students feel that way. We’re supposed to be knowledgeable in our fields, right? We’re supposed to have it down. But the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know anything.

This all got me thinking about why I thought I was so different from other grad students. I work full time. Most of my fellow grad students work part-time in the English department or don’t work at all (have partners and spouses who put them through school). I don’t know most of the other grad students as well as they all know one another. Part of that is because I’m not around them much – my office is not in the English department and part of it is that I am in a different place in my life.

I don’t know what they feel or how they think. I don’t feel like I connect with most of them at all.

But am I really so different?

I don’t know. I do know that many of them are not interested in pursuing their doctorates. I know that many have no idea what they want to do after they graduate – let alone hold down a full-time job. In fact, one young woman recently told me she was going to take six months off to relax after finals in May. Does my jealousy show? I wish I could just take some time off to be able to do my homework. But someone has to pay the bills and that happens to be me.

I’m not as old as some of my classmates but I’m not as young as some of them, either. I tend to fall in the middle and there aren’t many people my age. Many of my classmates are much older (10-20 years older) and many are much younger (10-15 years younger). Most of the older people have had families and decided to go back to school to do something different with their lives. The younger students haven’t had jobs or families yet and are just embarking on their journeys. I’m somewhere in the middle — no family but have lived life too much (or that’s how it feels at times).

I don’t seem to think like them. In every single class, I’m the dissenting voice. One classmate told me that it’s because I’m brilliant (her word, not mine) and I think outside of the box. Another told me that when I’m gone, they really miss my perspective because it gives them things to think about. Whatever it is, it ends up putting me in a different place. I have to defend my position (and I do so willingly because I won’t say something if I can’t back it up). But it can also be lonely. And then I start to question myself wondering if I’m just screwed up and why can’t I see the world like others see it? Why can’t I read a book the same way and get the same things out of it? Why do I see different messages or different themes than everyone else? I’m not trying to be that person. I’d like to be like others sometimes. I would. I try to fit in.

I keep coming back to the question, though, am I really different or do I just think I am?

I don’t know. I know most people feel this way at one time or another. But me — I feel this way all of the time. I always feel like I’m just outside of “normal” — whatever that is. That pane is just a little smudged where I’m looking in and the world inside is just a little distorted.

I’m ok with that. I’d just like to understand why. What makes me see the world in a way that is not typical? What makes me just a little off from everyone else?

kindness

photo by me

I was visiting daisies’ blog (as I try to do each day) and I noticed a few links on her site.

The first was Indie Bloggers, which I promptly joined. It seems like it will become an interesting community of bloggers. And I’m always up for a good social networking site. The founder of the site writes:

We’re writers not necessarily by profession but by passion. We love the act of writing and that is why we write every day, no matter how many visitors or comments we get. We write because it’s impossible for us not to.

We don’t fit into a neat little category. We write about life, not about one topic. Because we’re “un-nicheable,” we can’t network as easily. We can’t find each other on our own – though we may have our core readers, we don’t want to limit our communities. And because we can’t network as easily, we tend to feel a little lost.

I started Indie Bloggers because I am a “personal” blogger and I’m sick of feeling like my writing is frivolous, that I’m “just a personal blogger.” If you don’t write in a niche people tend to write you off, scoffing that “it’s just a blog.” It’s not just a blog. We’re not “just” bloggers. We write and we want to keep writing, keep growing, keep learning. We’ll probably never get published. And yet we still write.

Indie Bloggers is dedicated to us. It’s not about exclusion, it’s about including those who feel excluded. It’s for networking, meeting fellow non-professional writers. Communicating. Gathering ideas. Growing. It may sound cheesy, but I want to change the way people view “personal” blogs, how they view us and lump us into a category of “I had cereal today and am wearing blue socks!” bloggers. WE. ARE. MORE THAN THAT.

We’re not “personal” bloggers. We’re Independent Bloggers. Indies.

The second was kind blog. It is a pledge:

By posting this badge, I’m declaring that in addition to humour, intelligence, wit, sadness, snarkiness, passion, exuberance, peace, stillness, excitability, anger or any other emotion you may witness on my site:

1) I will never intentionally hurt other people, whether I know them or not, whether they blog or not, whether they’re celebrities or not, either through my words or my images. It’s just not my style; and

2) I hope that by the time you’ve clicked away from my site, I’ve helped in some way to make your day just a little bit better.

So this all got me to thinking. I wonder if I intentionally hurt people.

When I write about dating and my lack of success in doing so, am I being mean to the men that I’ve gone out with or will potentially go out with?

Was my discussion of the firefighter not calling, not visiting, not emailing unkind or was it just a sharing of things that are going on in my life right now? Would he like to read that post or would it embarrass or hurt him?

I don’t know.

I try not to be mean even when I’m hurt or disappointed or irritated or frustrated. But I don’t know if I succeed.

I think that sometimes (okay, most of the time) I wear my emotions on my sleeve and when I’m feeling disrupted (happily or not so happily) that maybe it comes out in a snarky, almost mean way — even if that’s not how I mean it.

I want to be considered kind. I want to consider myself kind.

I’m just not sure if I’ve evolved that much yet — no matter how much I want it.

breathless

photo by me

A friend came into my office yesterday and was telling me how she was lamenting that she hadn’t seen any of the current meteor shower. She had just moved into my area, which is very dark (and we are at an elevation of 7000 feet), and has huge windows in her house. She has been watching the night sky to see a “shooting star” and hadn’t seen one. She said that her husband had been delighted by the view that they had and had seen quite a few.

Then, while in bed, she watched out the window and the night sky lit up with a meteor. She said she was excited by it. Her entire face lit up and it made me smile.

It’s the small things, isn’t it? Those beautiful nothings we can’t control that surprise the heck out of us.

I love those moments. They come out of nowhere and take my breath away.

And I got one of those this morning.

I was driving to work, thinking about what is on my agenda this morning and listening to NPR. Here I was listening to a report about the pervasive poisonings that the KGB has done throughout the history of that organization. This led me to think about the space race between the US and Russia in the past and how we are now more global in how we go into space (or seemingly so, anyway — more collaborative, anyway).

Then…shooting across the sky, my very own shooting star.

It literally took my breath away.

A blip.

That made me smile and think about how amazing this earth is around us and how fortunate we are to be able to see things like that.

A beautiful nothing blip that took my breath away.

beautiful nothing

photo by me

I’m reading Sue Monk Kidd’s The Mermaid’s Chair. In it, one of the characters, Brother Timothy, is talking about being outside, in nature, and finding solace and peace there. He calls it the “beautiful nothing.”

It just is. It’s that place where people miss how beautiful it is because they’ve seen it a million times.

It’s that place where someone has walked or passed by on their way to work and have missed the beauty of it.

I think this is one of the reasons I’m drawn to photography.

I photograph everything – door handles, trees, dogs, kids, even my toes or a curl on my cheek.

I find something comforting, satisfying, and spiritual in these things. There is something intrinsically beautiful in all of them. Whether it’s a dead tree, a rusty door handle, a can thrown into the forest, or the curve of my own neck, I can find something beautiful in each one.

So I start to wonder if creating something beautiful out of the beautiful nothing is more important than the creative act itself or is that a part of the process for me? Am I trying to turn all of the hurt and pain and sadness that I’ve seen in the world into something beautiful?

I don’t tend to photograph other people – I don’t do urban/street photography (which seems to be very popular and well-received in online communities). It makes me uncomfortable. It’s too gritty for me. It’s too close to the edge.

I will stand on the edge of an 800-foot sheer cliff and photograph down into a canyon but I won’t stand on the edge of a sidewalk curb to photograph another human being.

Am I creating my own beautiful nothings? I look at the details of a blade of grass but refuse to focus on the frayed sleeve of a man sitting on a street corner.

I think about the world I’m creating, the photos I hang in my office and my home.

Yesterday a faculty member was in my office and he saw my photographs on my 3 monitors in my office. He said to me, “You’ve created your own windows into the world. What a beautiful view you have.”

And he was right.

I see the ocean at sunset.

I see the depths of the Grand Canyon.

I see a shell sitting in a puddle of water.

And it’s beautiful. And it’s calming. And I find solace in it.

And yet, it is nothing. A bright, amazing, beautiful nothing.